Baby Fingers
by WhereverUAre
Summary: Jon and Robb were left in Winterfell to take of it while the Lord and Lady go for a wedding. They knew that winter was coming but they did not see this hurdle coming.


Jon ran through the snow as quickly as he could. He could see the outline of his half-brother race in front of him. They almost approached the door when Jon faltered. He instinctively wanted to dust his shoes of the dirt and snow but Robb kept running and didn't hinder before entering the house. Jon followed suit and only slowed down once they were indoors and safe from the biting wind and punishing cold. The moment their ears were not ringing with the sound of the cruel winter winds and sleet; they were hit with the sound of the relentless wailing emerging from the seemingly harmless bundle of blankets that the old nan was trying very hard to solace. Jon could see Robb wince but bravely step forward and gesture to the old woman to hand over the bundle. Lord and Lady Stark had left Winterfell with the girls to visit a noble wedding. They had left Robb and Jon in charge of taking care of Bran, baby Rickon and Winterfell.

While Robb and Jon were away tending to some matters of the court, the Old Nan had sent for them, informing that the baby was feeling under the weather. And now, Jon was sitting awkwardly in the corner as Robb tried and miserably failed at calming the baby down while the Old Nan went to tend to another patient of hers.

Within a span of an hour, the baby was fed, changed, sang to, carried around and read stories. However, little Rickon was still wailing loudly and slowly becoming more and more red in the face!

"Jon, I cannot hear him cry for another minute!" Robb exclaimed.

"What else can we try, Robb? There has to be a way to make him stop crying!" replied Jon. The hair on his arms was standing and his ears could no longer take more of the wailing. The room was warm because of fire and his brains were starting to feel queasy.

"Hold on, I'll go get some more food for him. Maybe we can stuff him till he's full and sleepy!"

"Robb, maybe he just needs his mother? Should we send word to your mother?"

"And admit that we cannot handle one small tiny baby? C'mon Jon! We've taken care of Sansa, Bran and Arya as babies! We cannot let this one get the best of us! You keep trying to rock him to sleep! I'll be back in a second!"

Before Jon could protest again, Robb went racing from the room. He had managed to get himself a few seconds of respite from the wailing though Jon grudgingly. If he would be back in a few seconds as promised, Jon would eat his own shoes. Which were now filled with his own sweat. The heat in the room was really making him feel queasy and drugged especially due to all the furs he was wearing to combat the contrasting temperature outside.

Gently rocking the babe in one arm, Jon took off his furs until he was in a simple undershirt. His underclothes were drenched in sweat and seemed to make the baby more uncomfortable. Maybe that's why he's so upset thought Jon. The poor child had been absolutely smothered in layers of blankets!

Quickly, praying that the solution was finally upon them, Jon unwrapped the baby from the tight, suffocating blankets. The poor child was red and sweaty all over. The volume of the wailing reduced significantly in seconds. Jon suddenly realised how uncomfortable he still was. With the sweat drenched undershirt sticking to his skin and his arms aching from rocking the baby for hours now, his head was still aching. Noting that it enough time had passed for Robb to be back with milk at least five times by now, Jon shrugged his undershirt off, held the little red baby close to his chest and laid down on the furs near the low fireplace. Within a few minutes, Rickon, thoroughly tired fell asleep with his cheeks pressed against Jon's bare chest. Not wanting to jolt the baby, Jon remained on the floor, gently patting the baby's back and soon fell asleep himself.

After what seemed like mere moments, Jon felt the baby stir in his arms. Careful to not make any suddenly moments, he straightened up. Robb was seated on the bed with a funny smile on his face. Thankfully, wordlessly, he handed over the feeding bottle to Jon continuing to smirk.

"Oh, just spit it out, deserter!" muttered Jon.

"Never thought you'd survive after I left, that's all!"

Jon glared at him while continuing to secretly enjoy that he had achieved something that had sent Robb running away.

"Maybe when I have children, you can take care of them too Jon." Joked Robb.

"Oh gods I'm going to cut your pecker off." Deadpanned Jon.

Both the boys burst into laughter but immediately piped down when the baby moved too much. Jon moved to hand the baby to Robb but the both of them continued to smile thinking of the small battle they had won today. Immediately Rickon started squirming in Robb's arms and began to reach for Jon.

Jon looked in amazement at the small fingers which were reaching for him. He warmly smiled before picking up the baby and playing with him.

At that moment, when he looked down from his horse, at the body of his baby brother, he did not remember the battle plan, Sansa's warnings or his own life. He remembered that tiny baby that reached for him making cooing noises. He remembered those small fingers reaching for him. Jon charged forward.


End file.
